What did Momma Kat do for Halloween? Did Bear really confuse Momma's cold with an abominable snowman costume? And what happens when a postcard comes from the vet, reminding Momma that it's time for Bear's yearly checkup? How is all this connected? And why is Bear wearing a onesie? Enjoy!
BC: Bear Cat
MK: Momma Kat
BC: Momma? Umm . . . Halloween is over.
MK: Umph. Grump.
BC: Aren't you going to ask why I said that?
MK: No. When you say something so innocent-sounding, you usually turn it around and insult me.
BC: Since when are you an un-fun, humorless ogre? Oh, wait. ALWAYS!
MK: Since when are you a constant pain in my ass? Oh, wait. ALWAYS!
BC: I only bit your butt that one time! Believe me! I regret it more than you do! How was I supposed to know the tab was attached to the zipper on your butt pocket?!?!? I thought it was a misplaced drawstring!
MK: Umph. Phump.
BC: You sound like the abominable snowman.
MK: I don't think the abominable snowman has a voice.
BC: Technically, neither do you . . . it's more of a dying, squeaking growl.
MK: Great. Thanks, Bear. Now do you believe I'm sick?
BC: You weren't the abominable snowman for Halloween?
MK: BEAR! I'm sick! I feel like I got hit by a house!
BC: Doesn't that make you the Wicked Witch of the East? You even look green!
MK: No! I wasn't the abominable snowman for the whole WEEK BEFORE Halloween! Plus, I'm hardly a witch. And it was the Wicked Witch of the West that was green.
BC: Doesn't that make you the Wicked Witch of the East? You even look green!
MK: No! I wasn't the abominable snowman for the whole WEEK BEFORE Halloween! Plus, I'm hardly a witch. And it was the Wicked Witch of the West that was green.
BC: That's weird . . . I could have sworn you were the abominable snowman . . . because half the time, you were staggering around here all bundled up and ploofy like the abominable snowman and the other half the time, you were sweating into a huge puddle like the snowman without his personal snow cloud. Hmmm . . . with your green-y-ness, perhaps I can melt you, like the Wicked Witch of the West . . .
MK: It's called a fever! And I'm "green" because I'm nauseous!
BC: Okay. So you were a "FEVER" for Halloween. The day is over. And by the way . . . your abominable snowman was not as cute as the Rudolph movie version:
MK: Yes, well, I've never catnapped anyone and kept them in a cave.
BC: Where do we live then? And you did catnap me! I was sowing my wild oats as a tomcat!
BC: I'd kill you . . . painfully . . . over and over again. And you did make me wear clothes that one time.
MK: You were so cute in your onesie!
BC: Our versions of "cute" are very different. Fortunately, mine has fangs.
MK: Oh, come on! We had the most original "congratulations" card for my brother and his wife for their first pregnancy! You're lucky I didn't think of cutting a hole in the bottom for your tail until I already had it on . . . it would have been EVEN cuter to snap the bottom.
MK: Not very successfully. That reminds me . . . you have to go to the vet this coming week.
BC: Wait! What!?!?!? That picture of the abominable snowman reminds you of my vet!?!? I can't tell you how reassuring that is!
MK: No. I was just thinking of all the things I have to do this week, on top of the things I didn't get to last week because I was sick. Plus the picture of his teeth reminded me that we need to get yours checked.
BC: YOU get sick, but I have to go to the vet? No, no, no, NO, NO! You ARE wicked! No wonder you got hit by a house!
MK: I didn't get HIT by a house, I FEEL like I got hit by a house. And it's time for your yearly checkup. I have a feeling you'll lose another tooth or two.
BC: NO! There's nothing wrong with my teeth! Teeth thief!
MK: Say that ten times, fast.
BC: Teeth thief. Teeth theef. Teef teef. Teef feet. Oooohhh. I HATE YOU!
MK: I can't do it either.
BC: Thanks for making fun of my speech impediment!
MK: You don't have a speech impediment.
BC: Oh, what? So it's okay to make fun of my speech impediment if I don't have a speech impediment?
MK: You should be grateful that I've never dressed you up for Halloween. That could change . . . If I'm the Wicked Witch of the West, maybe next year you can be my flying monkey . . . BC: I'd kill you . . . painfully . . . over and over again. And you did make me wear clothes that one time.
MK: You were so cute in your onesie!
BC: Our versions of "cute" are very different. Fortunately, mine has fangs.
MK: Oh, come on! We had the most original "congratulations" card for my brother and his wife for their first pregnancy! You're lucky I didn't think of cutting a hole in the bottom for your tail until I already had it on . . . it would have been EVEN cuter to snap the bottom.
BC: What part of, "I'd kill you," do you not understand?
MK: You weren't hurt . . . permanently.
BC: Not physically! WHY, WHY, WHY? I need a therapist.
MK: That was six years ago! I think you've managed.
BC: Why the onesie?
MK: Because that's what they gave us to announce that I was going to be an aunt:
BC: Why would I sit on the baby? Do I look stupid? Those things are LOUD!
MK: Grandpa loves conspiracy theories and used to tell me to watch you because "cats sit on babies and kill them." It's an old wives' tale that he seemed to believe as truth even though it makes no sense.
BC: Maybe the cat killed the baby because the parents made the cat wear the baby's onesies. No baby, no onesies.
{Pause while Momma and Bear stare each other down}
BC: This conversation has been super troubling . . . your supposedly "unintentional" likenesses to the abominable snowman and TWO wicked witches, my supposed future visit to the vet, and dressing me up in clothes. No, no, no, no, no. Hey! Wait! Look!
BC: I don't? It's all my money! Mine! Mine!
MK: Oh, for crying . . .
BC: I want a bank account! Right now!
MK: No. You don't spend money.
BC: Because you won't let me! I hate you!
MK: You don't have a social security number either.
BC: Social security? Is that like guaranteed friends? YOU might need that, but I do not!
MK: Bear, I still don't feel all that great. Can't I just have a nice, quiet, relaxing night at home with my cat without you all up in my face?
BC: Whoever came up with that idea never had a cat . . . or at least not a BEAR Cat.
MK: Touche.
BC: Too sucky! I have to go to the vet. And I live with a double-wicked-witch and abominable snowman hybrid monster! Plus there are pictures of me in a onesie floating around the internets! AND I have no bank account! Yet somecat stole my catentity so I go to the vet in his place! I'M SCREWED! TOTALLY SCREWED! WOE IS ME!!!!
{Pause}
BC: At least I don't look like you . . . all greenish and grumpy!
BC: This conversation has been super troubling . . . your supposedly "unintentional" likenesses to the abominable snowman and TWO wicked witches, my supposed future visit to the vet, and dressing me up in clothes. No, no, no, no, no. Hey! Wait! Look!
BC: That's not me!
MK: But your name's on the back. That's just a stock image that every cat gets.
BC: Someone stole my catentity! It's the IMPOSTER'S time to go to the vet!
MK: Here's what's wrong with that theory: a) You go every November. b) Why would a cat steal another cat's identity? You don't have any financial accounts.BC: I don't? It's all my money! Mine! Mine!
MK: Oh, for crying . . .
BC: I want a bank account! Right now!
MK: No. You don't spend money.
BC: Because you won't let me! I hate you!
MK: You don't have a social security number either.
BC: Social security? Is that like guaranteed friends? YOU might need that, but I do not!
MK: Bear, I still don't feel all that great. Can't I just have a nice, quiet, relaxing night at home with my cat without you all up in my face?
BC: Whoever came up with that idea never had a cat . . . or at least not a BEAR Cat.
MK: Touche.
BC: Too sucky! I have to go to the vet. And I live with a double-wicked-witch and abominable snowman hybrid monster! Plus there are pictures of me in a onesie floating around the internets! AND I have no bank account! Yet somecat stole my catentity so I go to the vet in his place! I'M SCREWED! TOTALLY SCREWED! WOE IS ME!!!!
{Pause}
BC: At least I don't look like you . . . all greenish and grumpy!
The first three days of the "sick chronicles" (if you missed them on Momma Kat's Facebook page):
BC: Don't even think about it. The chair is mine and I'm preparing for a nap. Don't be selfish and expect to share.
MK: OK. I'm not.
BC: What?!?!
MK: I don't want the chair. I think I'm sick: I'm going to lay on the couch and hopefully get a nap.
BC: I hate you!
MK: But . . . you get the chair?!?! Isn't that what you want?
BC: Not if you don't! And I've already done my pre-nap preparations!
MK: You still have a few minutes to ensconce yourself on the couch before I get there.
BC: Obviously.
{Five minutes pass}
BC: I'm waiting for you! Where ARE you?!?! Momma? MoooommmMMMA! Wait . . . What?!?!? You're in my bed?!?!? YOU TRICKED ME! YOU'RE SELFISH! I HATE YOU! And you didn't even wait for me! Wake up! WAKE UP!!! YOU HAVE TO PET ME!
BC: I'm waiting for you! Where ARE you?!?! Momma? MoooommmMMMA! Wait . . . What?!?!? You're in my bed?!?!? YOU TRICKED ME! YOU'RE SELFISH! I HATE YOU! And you didn't even wait for me! Wake up! WAKE UP!!! YOU HAVE TO PET ME!
MK: Wha? Sniff, sniff. Eh . . . {Momma snores lightly}.
BC: This is wrong! I require loves! RIGHT NOW! I'VE BEEN SCREWED! Mistreated! I won't stand for this! MommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmMMMA! You're not waking up even though I'm jumping on you repeatedly! Hey! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Holy crap. Now THAT'S tired! Maybe in fifteen minutes . . . RATS! BEAR DOESN'T WAIT!
Day 2:
MK: Ohhhhhh . . . uhhhhhhh . . . owwwww . . .
Day 2:
MK: Ohhhhhh . . . uhhhhhhh . . . owwwww . . .
BC: What's wrong with you?
MK: I'm sick!
BC: WHAT?!?!? You never tell me anything!
MK: Bear, why do you think I've spent the last three days in bed . . . not even eating or getting the mail . . . or showering?
BC: I thought you missed me so much after being gone for a few days that you declared uninterrupted Bear snuggle time! Hmph. Apparently, I'm not important enough to miss.
MK: Of course I missed you!
BC: But you've feed me my wet food treat the past few days . . .
MK: Because I didn't want to be a kitty trampoline while I tried to sleep!
BC: So that's why you dished it out while sitting on the floor? I thought you were saving me the trouble of jumping on the counter!
MK: Not everything is about you.
BC: Whatever. By the way, my litter box is looking and smelling kind of gnarly.
MK: Right. I'll get on that somewhere between hacking up a lung and dying.
BC: Just so you know . . . YOU'RE SELFISH!
{Pause}
BC: Wait! Did you say "dying?" Have you changed your will to properly reflect the ownership of my assets?
MK: No chicken farm.
BC: I HATE YOU!
Day 3:
BC: The feedback for this play session is "VERY DISSATISFIED!"
MK: We weren't playing!
BC: But, I WANT TO PLAY!!!
MK: Bear, I'm so sick I can't even get a shower . . . I can't play with you - as much as I want to!
BC: No wonder my prey only had two speeds: zero and "arthritic turtle."
MK: Yet it didn't stop you from mauling the backs of my legs . . . before you lost interest.
BC: So you're saying you fear my ruthless and vicious nature? Because "arthritic turtle" doesn't exactly translate to "I fear you!"
MK: Sure. And it kind of does when Momma can't move faster than that without falling over.
BC: I thought so! Can we play now?
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